To Paint A Sky

Summary: What happens to those who are lost, who have strayed from their path, who are mired amongst the darkening trees?

The heavens an upturned bowl overhead...

Dark is the forest and deep, and overhead, hang stars
like seeds of light / In vain, though not since they were sown was bred,
anything more bright. / And evermore mighty multitudes ride, about, nor enter
in; / Of the other multitudes that dwell inside, never yet
was one seen. / The forest foxglove is purple, the marguerite, outside
is gold and white, / Nor can those that pluck either blossom greet, the
others, day or night.– The Dark
Forest, Edward Thomas

The few stars in the night sky
winked and glowed fitfully over a snow-laden forest near the mountain. They
watched a small figure as it made a slow, winding track across the glittering
winter landscape. A little lantern swung beside it, making a tiny pool of light
in the darkness. The moon shone off its silvery hair...and the stars glanced
off the silver and gold sparkles of the feathers on the being's wings.

The figure was an angel, of course. She was a
slim girl who looked like she might be in her prime years, but then, who knew
with heaven's messengers? This one looked young, but all the age and wisdom of the cosmos shone from her violet eyes.

As she walked, it became clear
where she was heading. A small stone arch stood on the mountainside. It was
collapsing to the ground in small increments, but its intricately carved lintel
stood unchanged, as if it hadn't quite given up yet. It was surrounded by a
faint glow, almost imagined, and if a mortal had looked through it, just out of the corner of his eye, he would have seen a slight haze,
like rising heat.

One obstacle still stood between
the angel and her goal.

It was the dark forest of storybook
tales and horrid imaginings. Tall pines reached for the sky, desperately trying
to dethrone the moon. A chill wind blew between their trunks, pushing the heavy
burdens of snow off their branches and dumping them unceremoniously to the
ground. Pine needles coated the ground thickly wherever the snow had not
fallen.

Deep in those dark spaces, shades
twisted in unending agony.

They writhed through the trees,
keeping to the blackest shadows and silently crying out to the night, helpless souls of every distant corner of the earth. Every waxing and waning
of the moon they gathered in the darkest holes and crevices of this forest, and many like it,
forgotten and lonely, their bodies stolen, lost, or simply left unburied in the
thickets and alleys and fathomless pools. Now they came forward, drawn to the light.

The angel stepped forward too,
into the forest. Her voice was at once the clamorous baying of the hunt and the
gentle hush of renewing spring rains, beautiful and terrible, and entirely
irresistible. With it she called out to all the hopeless wraiths.

“I am the angel of the deep
forests and tangled thickets, the endless wood and the green coppice. Follow
me.” And with that one short sentence, she began to tread a path through the
forest, making for the arch on the mountain.

The spirits continued to silently
twist and howl. Why should we go?, they cried among themselves. We
are better forgotten and hidden in this deep gloom. It is suited to us. But
her voice was overwhelming powerful, beckoning to them. They yearned for the
small, lively flame of the gold lantern that the angel was carrying...it held
promises. She might take them to a
better place than this cold uncaring wood. With a few more silently screeching
grumbles, they began to follow.

It was a sight to rival the most
amazing and terrifying spectacle. The angel walked in front, encased in her
yellow cocoon of light, while behind her it seemed that nothingness itself was
following in her footsteps. The trees shivered in their wake, and any animals
brave enough to make their home in the forest ran away, gibbering in terror.

After a while they made it through
the forest and broke out onto the snow at the foot of the mountain. The arch
stood before them, inviting them forward, and the as the angel walked through
there was a tangible change in the air. It was...warmer, somehow. The spirits
dithered fearfully at the foot of the slope.

"Come," said the angel,
"through the arch."

They had come this far, hadn't
they?

The spirits started forward, walking
slowly through the arch. And then an amazing thing happened.

As each spirit walked through the
arch, they were no longer twisting shadows. They took on form and shape,
becoming as they had been in life. Peasants, farmers, priests, kings. Slaves,
doctors, courtesans, merchants. Male and female. The young and the old. Death
did not distinguish between class, age, race or creed.

Their faces were gaunt and
hollow-eyed. For most, life had not been kind. And for all, neither had death.
They were all faintly transparent; corporeal, but not really alive.

The angel and her retinue
continued up the mountain, no longer a column of writhing darkness. A chill
wind blew across the side of the rocky slope, but in their half-ghost state
they did not feel it. Their torment was spiritual, not material. The angel
herself was divine, and divine beings do not succumb to earthly discomforts.

It seemed like years before they
reached the summit, and maybe it had been. Time had long since dropped away,
for it was only a part of the tangible world, which they were now leaving. The angel
stood on the peak, and the lost spirits gathered around her. She reached her
arms to the sky, beseeching the Heavens.

"Take these wayward
souls," she intoned. "Take them into your divine care and set them on
the Path to eternal rest."

For a heartbeat, nothing happened.
Then a pure light began to shine, bathing the angel in its ethereal glow. A
loud boom rolled across the mountain-top, and the spirits huddled in
terror. Then the phosphorescence began to spread, illuminating the summit, and
in its now-brilliant radiance the spirits began to fragment, each reverting
back to the fundamental particles of which they were made, becoming...as dust.

This celestial dust began to move,
blowing around the angel as if caught in a cyclone. It rose above her in a
great pillar, rising up to the heavens that called it irrevocably home. As it
ascended ever higher it seemed that the sky was suddenly overloaded, glutted on
starlight, each particle shining like a sun.

Then it was gone. The angel stood
alone on the mountain, staring towards the sky, waiting. Slowly, new stars
began to blaze in its dark void, overflowing, each a fresh, newborn flame. She
lowered her arms.

The task was done.

All over the world she and her sisters
and brothers had gathered the forgotten dead, absolving them of whatever sin
had caused them to be lost in the sands of time, leading them, and finally,
passing them on into divine care. They had refilled the heavens, bringing new
souls to glow brightly over the earth, bringing hope, painting the sky with
stars.

Write a Review
Did you enjoy my story? Please let me know what you think by leaving a review! Thanks,
Oxymoronic

Nymeria:
Really can't get enough of this story. It flows well, it captivates the reader from page 1, and throws you into such a well-written, well conceptualized world that you'll believe it's real. Everything in the book is meshed together really well. From character backgrounds to plot twists, you can t...

PurpleInkling:
Hippocrite is spelt hypocrite.Also it is an awesome story! A good one after so long. I was hoping someone would write a good fanficiton playing off what Ron said at the station. You are doing a remarkable job. It would have been interesting if Albus had also ended up in Ravenclaw though that mig...

Charlie_8472:
Recommended to me by a friend, I thought I'd give this a read. As a hobbyist blacksmith, the blurb certainly caught my attention. I found the sentence about them drinking, dancing and fighting a strange combination of activities, perhaps a reflection of the writer’s personality and humour. Howeve...

Barbara Ponder:
This book is aimed at teenagers, however the style and content caught my attention and it is a long time since I was a teenager. Intriguing and enlightening novel I hope there will be a sequel soon.

mrh:
I love this story soooo much! This is such an incredible twist on Harry Potter's story. I have loved every word of it. I hope you will write more soon! I want to know what happens next sooo bad! Please write more!

Ben Gauger:
Kudos go to the author of ''Equinox: Into the Clouds'' for originality in character development as well as scene execution and in addition plot development, A truly original story if I do say so myself, though the spelling in and of itself could use a little work, but other than that a truly orig...

ga1984:
I really enjoyed it! Characters were deep and plot was pretty complex. A bit on the violent side but it doesnt detract from the story. Very dark but situations make sense. Ends kinda abruptly and later chapters will need some editing work. I'm assuming there's more in the works?

Morgan-Leigh Nortje:
A storyline and plot not unlike something George R R Martin would have produced, only with far less tragedy. The stunning story of a young princess who goes into hiding and takes on an epic journey to save her father and her kingdom. With characters that you feel compelled to love and a plot that...

Schaelz:
I was intrigued from the second I started reading, and it kept my interest the whole way through. Chelsea has a way with words that will enchant you until the very end. She is very poetic with the way she mixes genres and keeps you on the edge of your seat. The main character is also very relat...

Kayla Wentz:
This book had me hooked from the beginning! I kept coming back for more. It only took me a day to read! I couldn't put it down! Absolutely A-Mazing! This book keep the story going and there's never a dull moment!

Julia Summers PA:
It's Prodigious, Shocking, Stunning, Unbelievably fascinating and enduring yet evil has a presence about it! Epic writing style! - Nook Books and More BlogRed that pulls you in. The characters have a way of pulling you in. They are all unique in a way that gives it a different appeal then the ave...

europeanlove:
I gotta hand it to you. I love reading. I read books everyday. When the book is good I can read it in probably 13 hours. Your story was amazing. Great prose, very imaginative. Incredible dialogue. I am deeply impressed. Keep it up.